The Unnatural Calm
by Shattered-Illusions
Summary: Harryt is back at hogwarts for his sixth year and everthing is just as he remembers...except Ron. Ron has been acting a little weird lately, and Harry knows Voldemort is involved. Harry, Hermione and Ginny grow steadily closer as They try to pry Ron's min
1. Mental Changes

Chapter One: The Unnatural Calm  
By: Molly Burton  
  
It was a night like any other. Harry Potter lay on his made bed, clothes still on, staring at his ceiling. Every night, he would lie, unmoving on his bed, not blinking, just lying there. He would sit in the dark, and think. He would count to seconds.the minutes.the hours until he could finally leave to Dursley's and return to Hogwarts: His boarding school; which he considered his rightful home. This strange, yet soothing schedule had come into effect upon leaving in his fifth year.  
  
When, and if he mad it out of the Dursley's alive, Harry would be in his sixth year at Hogwarts. That meant only two more years until he graduated, and never had to return to the Dursley's again.  
  
Harry longed to loosen the floorboard which concieled his wizarding impliments.  
  
Hedwig, Harry's large snowy owl hooted softly in her sleep. He strained his ears to hear the faintest sound of any awake family members. It was merely two more days of this torture till he was reunited with his friends in Diagon Alley once more.  
  
'This torture' Being that of Harry's new job. Vernon Dursley: A large beefy man with hardly any neck and a rather large moustache, had decided that it was high time his backyard had been landscaped. Naturally his favourite choice of workers was the extremely underpaid Harry.  
  
All summer long Harry had been dragging sand back here, and lugging Pond brick there. Positioning fountains just so, and cementing the new pond properly. His task had done three things. It had, A.) Made Harry extremely resentful towards the Dursley's. And emotion that he really didn't need provoked. B.) Made Harry's entire summer be that of cheap labour work and sore muscles. And C.) Helped Harry's muscles develop considerable larger than they had in the previous years.  
  
Harry was now six feet tall, on the dot. And sixteen. His hair was still unruly, and black, slightly longer than what was acceptable, but was no longer playfully boyishly messy, now it was, working, man rugged. His piercing emerald eyes hadn't changed a bit, though they held a little more maturity than they had a few months ago.  
  
Over the summer Harry had learned to hold his tongue in the presence of the Dursley's. In fact, Harry had pretty much not spoken at all the entire summer. His voice had deepened at an incredibly accelerated rate, and had a tendency to squeak into a high pitched tone. It was quite embarrassing, and Harry tried to inflict it on his 'family' as little as possible.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, the only sounds he could hear were those of Hedwig, shuffling her feet, and the wind whistling through his cracked window. The muscles in his body slowly un-contracted, one at a time as he fell into alight sleep, forgetting what physical trials tomorrow held. 


	2. Testosterone and Stubborness

Harry was awoken by Petunia's shrill screams. He sat up, his clothes  
not wrinkled from the night's unmoving sleep. He groped around on his  
beside table, searching for his glasses. He pressed them on his face,  
the black rims visible for him, and felt estranged upon his nose.  
  
That summer, just after school ended, Petunia had (Oddly enough)  
Convinced Vernon to buy Harry a new pair of glasses, since his old  
pair were worn to tatters.  
  
Harry descended the stairs, half wanting to return to his room, and  
half wanting to scream along side Aunt Petunia. As Harry pushed open  
the white door to the kitchen he realised to trigger for Aunt  
Petunia's distress. As much as he would like to believe that Aunt  
petunia caught a glance of herself on the mirror, wearing only a  
bathroom and covered in an ample layer of green face goo, Harry noted  
that there was a slender, black cat sitting on the counter before Mrs.  
Dursley.  
  
Harry swooped in and picked the cat up, looking confusedly between  
Petunia and the cat,  
  
"Aunt Petunia?" He asked loudly, above her screams.  
  
"It." Aunt Petunia stuttered, her screams halting. Her knees were  
quivering. 'It Spoke." She whispered, before collapsing in a heap on  
the ground.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"I don't see how any of this is my fault." Harry repeated,  
voice remaining calm, to Uncle Vernon. Now that Harry was able  
to look down on Vernon, his uncle found it exceedingly difficult  
to lecture his adopted nephew.  
  
"It's your kind of people." Vernon whispered harshly.  
Temples bulging. He looked as though he would like nothing more  
than to squash Harry like a bug.  
  
"Vernon." Harry muttered in a warning tone, his height  
adding to his authority, his flexing arm muscles not dimishing  
the affect at all, " The Cat wasn't one of my people, as you so  
charmingly put it."  
  
Vernon's veins popped out from his neck and his face  
darkened several shades of red, if possible.  
  
Harry flashed Vernon a non-chalant grin, and sauntered up  
the stairs, oblivious to Vernon's screams for him the return at  
once.  
  
It seemed that Harry had been changed by three months on barely  
any wizarding contact, plenty of hormones and even more physical  
labour. 


End file.
